


Follow You Anywhere

by romanticallyinept



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: 'cause fuck that guy, Begging, Blow Jobs, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, Hero Worship, Kissing, M/M, Naked Male Clothed Male, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, The Captain shot the Chairman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticallyinept/pseuds/romanticallyinept
Summary: “Why are you apologizing?” Felix demands. His brows are furrowed, and he looks confused, not mad. Not furious, like he should be. “Fucker deserved it.”“But he was yourfather,” you insist, and Felix just rolls his eyes.“‘s fine,” the kid says, almost slurring now, but not quite. “You’re a better daddy anyway, boss.”Drunken confessions, sober sex, and a little bit of kink.
Relationships: Felix Millstone/Reader, The Captain/Felix Millstone
Comments: 9
Kudos: 95





	Follow You Anywhere

Tartarus ends up being a mess, but it also ends up being a win. You rescue Phineas, you shut down the Board, and you put a bullet between Chairman Rockwell’s eyes.

It’s that last part that’s weighing on you, the cloud of it lingering even as Ellie forcibly drags you and the crew out for drinks. She wants to celebrate - hell, they all want to celebrate, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to look Felix in the eye. All Felix has ever done is joke about his past, about being a bastard and an orphan, but this is different. You know the kid looks up to you, idolizes you, even, and you don’t want to be the next on a long list of people who have done nothing more than disappoint and hurt him.

But you go, because ADA tells you to and Ellie mutters in your ear, “ _Don’t be a spoilsport_ ,” and drags you out onto the _Groundbreaker’s_ docking bay by your wrist. You go, because your crew wants you to, and you owe them. They risked their lives for you, for the mission. The least you can do, you suppose, is get them fucked up on cheap alcohol.

The first round is shots, per Nyoka’s request. The second is, too. By the third round, which is actually drinks and not punches to the gut via the throat, everyone is a little looser, a little more relaxed. Felix has his arm thrown around Max’s shoulder, and while the vicar doesn’t look pleased, exactly, he doesn’t look like he’s about to kill the kid, either. You’re 94% sure that Nyoka was drunk before you even left the _Unreliable_ , and the shots, funny enough, haven’t helped her sober up at all. Ellie’s drunk enough that she’s smiling, and even Parvati is nursing a beer, the only one of you that’s reasonably close to being clear-minded.

Felix is seated next to you, on your right. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he always tries to be close to you - he lingers in your space, hungry for attention that doesn’t involve some sort of altercation. You wonder if that’s going to change, if the knowledge that you _really_ made him an orphan will mar your relationship. 

“Hey, kid,” you say, quietly. Felix disentangles himself from Max, turning to face you. Your conversation isn’t private by any means, but the din of the bar is loud enough to drown out your voices if you’re quiet. The others aren’t paying rapt attention, either, too wrapped up in their own conversations to bother.

“Boss!” Felix says, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. His eyes are bright, if a bit unfocused, and the weight of his gaze hits you like a metric fuckton of bricks. It’s open, and honest, and it’s everything you don’t deserve.

“We should talk,” you say, and you’re still trying to formulate what you’re going to say next when Felix scoots closer, his chair skidding across the floor with a squeak that’s barely hidden under the din of the bar. 

The kid nudges your shoulders together, flashing you a smile that’s meant entirely for you. “Sure,” he says easily, reaching over the table to grab his drink and pull it closer. You almost stop him from taking a drink of the violently purple liquid, but another few sips isn’t going to tip him over some metaphorical edge of intoxication, so you let it go.

“What happened on Tartarus,” you begin, and then sigh, reaching up to run your fingers through your hair. “I know you heard, but details have been scarce in coming out, especially for who was… responsible for what, I guess.”

Felix laughs, loud and clear. “Did you really pull the ‘we need to talk’ line so you could brag, boss?”

“No!” you say hastily, but before you can continue Felix bursts out laughing, half-bent over the table as the sound explodes from him. For a moment, you just stare, coming to the belated realization that he was kidding. Joking. Felix was making a joke.

You mutter something under your breath, and Felix just laughs harder, his cheeks turning pink with it. It’s a beautiful sight, really, Felix laughing. He laughs like he’s never get the chance again, and knowing him, you’re sure he hasn’t had all that many opportunities to laugh in his lifetime. 

Law, you hate to ruin this one.

“Felix,” you say, before the laugh can turn into drunken hysterics. “Listen, kid. Please.”

Felix sobers, or rather, he tries to, sitting up and propping his chin up on his hand. “‘m listening,” he says, and then waves a hand for you to continue. The gesture is a little sloppy, and you feel an entirely inappropriate wave of affection rise in your chest. 

“Chairman Rockwell was killed during the takeover,” you say, and as you speak Felix’s smile goes a little tight. You brace yourself. “Given that you… your relationship with him, I thought you deserved to know. I was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Felix blinks. He opens his mouth, cocks his head like he’s thinking, and then closes it again. The glass turns in his hand, and for a moment, your gaze drops to it. It’s easier to look at the drink than to look at the kid. You don’t want to see the expression that’s going to take over his face when he realizes what you said.

Felix coughs, drawing your attention back to him involuntarily. “Is that all?” he asks, and his voice is expectant. You flinch, but you’re good at hiding those reactions, and you’re fairly certain the kid doesn’t notice. 

“I’m sorry,” you begin. “I’m more than sorry. You have every right to be pissed at me, and -”

“Why are you apologizing?” Felix demands. His brows are furrowed, and he looks confused, not mad. Not furious, like he should be. “Fucker deserved it.”

“But he was your _father_ ,” you insist, and Felix just rolls his eyes.

“‘s fine,” the kid says, almost slurring now, but not quite. “You’re a better daddy anyway, boss.”

As he speaks, complete and utter silence falls around the table. It’s one of those natural lulls in conversation that happen, but it lingers this time, due to Felix’s declaration. It takes a moment, a long moment, but the kid seems to realize what he said. He blushes, color creeping into his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mutters, glaring at Ellie, who looks like she’s barely containing her laughter. “Fuck you, like you’ve never said anything embarassing after a few drinks.”

“I’ve never called anyone ‘daddy’,” Ellie says dryly, and she opens her mouth like she’s going to say more, but you fix her with a firm look. _Not now_ , you think at her, and Ellie’s never been one to pick up on the subtleties of social behavior, but she catches your look and she nods, almost imperceptibly. 

“ _Fine_ ,” she mutters, under her breath. “Fine. But I am _not_ sticking around for this conversation if I can’t comment on it.”

She rises, reaching out to grab Nyoka by the shoulder and pull her up as well. “We’re going back to the ship,” she says, and looks pointedly at Max and Parvati. “Come on, all of you. Let’s leave the boys to get their heads out of their asses, shall we?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, but Ellie packs the rest of the crew up with surprising efficiency, getting them up and out their feet and out the door faster than you would have been able to. You make a mental note to thank her, later. Or buy her something nice, like a gun.

The table is now empty, granting the two of you a little more privacy. You breathe a little easier when they’re gone - you love your crew, but this isn’t a conversation you want broadcast to them, especially not now that Felix is… well. 

“I’m sorry,” Felix says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him. He’s looking down at the table, not at you, and the shame pouring off him is almost palpable. He pushes his drink away and drops his hands to his lap, rubbing his palms on his thighs. And you’re not sure what to say to the kid, because ‘it’s fine’ doesn’t seem like it’s going to cut it here. No, whatever Felix is feeling, it’s a lot deeper, a lot more serious. You sigh. 

Felix flinches.

“Aw, kid,” you say, before you can think better of it. “Law. I’m not mad. Hearing a pretty boy call me ‘daddy’ isn’t the worst way I can think of spending a night.”

Felix looks up at you sharply, and for a moment you think you’ve crossed a line. Which line, you’re not sure, because Felix is the one who brought up the whole ‘daddy’ thing in the first place. But the kid just looks at you, his eyes a little wide, and it takes you far too long to realize that the expression he’s wearing is surprise. Pleasant surprise at that. You smile, and the grin the kid gives you in return is blinding.

“Anyway,” you continue. “His wouldn’t be the first identity I stole after killing someone.” The joke’s in bad taste but Felix still throws his head back and laughs again, and Law, you love that sound. The kid doesn’t do it often enough. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says. “We weren’t… I mean, he wasn’t anything to me. I probably said it wrong, but I did mean what I said. You’ve been better to me these past few weeks than… well, better than anyone’s ever been.” The kid shrugs, casually, like that’s not a big deal. “I appreciate you, boss. That’s all I was trying to say.”

Maybe it’s the Spectrum Vodka coursing through your veins, or maybe it’s the look Ellie gave you before she left, but whatever it is, it makes you raise an eyebrow. “Mhm,” you say, and Felix blushes again.

“Well,” he amends. “Maybe not all. But Law, boss, can you blame me? You…” He gestures at you wildly, almost knocking over his own drink. “I would’ve let you bend me over the table the first day you brought me on board, and that was before I knew you. You’re… look, I know you don’t think so, but you’re good. You care. I haven’t had a whole lot of people care about me during my life, boss, and I know you care about each and every one of us. So yeah, maybe sometimes I think about you caring in a different way, because it’s nice. You give a shit, so you wouldn’t... “ He trails off, like the wind suddenly blew out of his sails. But you don’t need him to finish that sentence. You know where it was going.

“You’re important to me,” you say, firmly. “You know that, don’t you?”

Felix nods.

“And you understand that, whatever you asked of me, I’d do my damndest to make happen for you?”

The kid cocks his head, and after a long, painful moment, understanding dawns in his eyes. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Yeah.” He grins, a flash of white teeth. “‘cause if I asked, you’d know it was something I needed, or wanted really damn bad.”

Some of the tension eases from your shoulders. Maybe it’s stupid, making the kid ask, but it settles some of your own uncertainty, makes you feel less like… well, less like a dirty old man. You wince at the thought.

“We’re both too drunk for this right now,” you say, at the same time that Felix shifts, leaning back into his chair so he can shove a hand into his pocket. He squirms for a moment, and whatever else happens, that image is going to be burned into your mind for the rest of your days: Felix, hand making a bulge in the front of his pants, wiggling his hips in a manner that’s so suggestive it can’t _not_ be intentional. The rest of what you were going to say dies on your tongue, and it’s a good thing, too, because a moment later Felix holds up his hand, brandishing a packet of pills triumphantly. 

“Caffeinoids!” he says, brightly. “We can sober up nice and quick.”

He pauses, and then you nod. Felix’s smile grows even brighter, impossibly so, and he tears the packet open, dumping the pills out into his palm. He picks up two and holds them out to you, and if the look on his face wasn’t so damn eager you might hesitate, might argue for sobering up naturally and talking about it in the morning, but you don’t. You take the pills, toss the kid a wink that would be flirtatious on a good day and downright salacious on any other, and then you throw them back dry. The bitter chemical taste on the back of your tongue isn’t pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but the anticipation that’s building in the pit of your stomach more than makes up for it.

The feeling of suddenly becoming sober isn’t pleasant either, and you grimace a little as the caffeinoids kick in. Next to you, Felix makes a similar expression, pushing his drink a little further away in distaste.

“Law,” he mutters. “Getting drunk always seems like a good idea beforehand. During, too. But after…” He shakes his head, and then turns to look at you, his mouth curling into a wry smile. “I uh… I definitely feel like things should be awkward now.”

You can’t help the disappointment that curls in your stomach, but you nod anyway, forcing yourself to smile. “It’s fine,” you says. “You’re not the first person to ever say something they didn’t mean while drunk, kid.”

Felix’s expression goes confused. “I didn’t not mean it,” he says, and then frowns. “I mean, I did mean it, boss. Totally. 100%. But you know how it is. Liquid courage gives you… well, courage. Doing this sober is definitely giving me a few more butterflies.”

The disappointment you’re feeling morphs into understanding. “We don’t have to do anything right now,” you say gently. “If you need time to think about it, that’s fine. I don’t want to…”

Felix raises a hand, cutting you off. “Hold up,” he says. “You told me whatever I asked for, you’d do your damndest to make it happen, right?”

The kid waits, and you nod. 

“Good,” Felix continues. “So listen up, then, because I’m not sure I can say this more than once. I want you. I’m flexible on the specifics, but, uh…” He reaches up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kinda want you to fuck me, and I kinda want it to happen ten minutes ago.”

Your mouth opens of its own accord, and you hear yourself speaking before you can think through what you’re saying. “And you’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

Felix shivers, and he’s close enough that you can see how his pupils expand, how his chest starts to rise and fall a little faster. “Yeah,” he says, the word breathy and low. “Yeah, I’ll be your good boy. I promise, boss.”

You grin. “Called me something else, earlier,” you say, the arousal that’s building in your gut lending you a little forwardness. “You want that on the table?”

The kid makes a sound like someone punched him in the solar plexus, all the air __whooshing out of him in a single, pained breath. “Fuck,” he mutters, and he squirms a little in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. That’s on the table. Please?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the eagerness in Felix’s voice. No longer resisting the urge to touch, you reach out, cupping the younger man’s jaw with your hand. Felix leans into the touch like a cat, his eyelashes fluttering a little, and the look of bliss is so unmistakable on his face that it takes you a little by surprise. A touch, an agreement, and the kid is already melting for you.

“Good boy,” you murmur. “Safeword?”

“Red,” Felix supplies promptly, no hesitation. He turns his head, brushing his lips over your palm. “Can we go somewhere now? Aw, shit, Ellie’s probably already back at the ship, huh?”

“Probably,” you say, and before Felix’s shoulders can start to slump, you add, “Come on. I think the Hero of Halcyon can find us a room for the night.”

* * *

It takes you fifteen minutes to find a room with a bed that’s not a single, and that’s with Felix hanging off your arm, stopping to rub his nose against the crook of your neck every forty seconds or so. He’s a limpet, attached to you at the hip, and you love every second of it just as much as he does. 

The room isn’t fancy, but the bed is big enough to fit three, the door locks, and you’re fairly certain that no one is going to burst in at an inconvenient time to make you deal with a squabble between the crew. Those facts make the place perfect, and you guess that Felix thinks so as well, because the moment the door closes behind you he turns, hands grabbing at your jacket. “ _Off_ ,” he mutters, and you’d laugh, but the same desperation is zinging up your own spine. 

Still, though. You reach up, grabbing the kid’s wrists and pinning them to your own chest. “Easy,” you say. “We’ve got all night. No need to rush, baby.”

The endearment fall from your lips easily, but it takes Felix by surprise. He looks up at you, eyes wide, mouth a little open before nodding, slowly. “Yeah,” he says, and his voice is deeper, rougher. “Yeah, okay. No rushing. I can do that.”

You smile. “Good boy,” you say, and then you lean in, swallowing the little moan the younger man makes with your own mouth. 

Felix kisses like he fights - that is, haphazardly and with more flair than is entirely necessary - but he’s not bad at it. It’s clear he has less experience than he lets on, especially when your tongue slips into his mouth and he jerks, gasping softly, before falling back into the kiss. You don’t mind. You’re pressed up against him, can feel the heat of him through his clothes and yours, and you know from experience that the kid is a quick learner. He’ll get better. 

You gentle the kiss, pausing to nip at Felix’s bottom lip before leaning back and pressing your foreheads together. “With me?” you ask. Felix groans, and you brush a thumb over his cheek soothingly. “I know, I know. You’re being so patient for me. So good. It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

Felix nods shakily, and then once again, a little more decisively. “Okay,” he says, and his fingers curl reflexively in the material of your jacket. He shifts, and you feel where he’s pressed up against your thigh, hot and thick and hard. “I’ll be good, daddy.”

Felix looks up at you as he says it, eyes searching your face, likely for any sign that now, in the middle of it, you’ve changed your mind. You smile at him, and, carefully you grind forward against his leg, letting him feel the very honest reaction that’s happening in your own pants. “Good boy,” you murmur. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

You slide the vest off Felix’s shoulders first, batting away his hands with a _tsk_ when he reaches for your jacket again. This time, he drops his hands with a blush and a slight nod, deferring to your wishes. You hum, approval in the sound, and then you start on the jumpsuit, tugging down the zipper on the front. 

Felix steps out of it when it pools around his ankles, kicking his shoes away and pressing back against you almost immediately. His briefs, the only stitch of clothing left on him, are tenting obscenely, and you can’t resist the urge to reach down and palm him through them. It’s a quick, gentle touch, but Felix’s hips buck forward into your hand and a quiet, sharp sound escapes him. 

“Eager?” you ask, and Felix laughs, high and breathy. It’s not an answer, but you don’t need one - the pulse that’s ticking away in Felix’s neck and the way he’s trembling slightly are answer enough to that question. 

Your hands drop to Felix’s hips, and, slowly, you hook your thumbs under the waistband of his underwear. You don’t tease as much as you’d like to - the kid’s already worked up, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you are too. Instead, you slide the underwear down over his hips, grinning a little when his cock bobs up and slaps against his own stomach, making Felix bite out a whine. 

“Beautiful,” you murmur, taking half a step back and letting your eyes wander over Felix’s naked form. He’s not as skinny as he was when you first brought him on board - regular meals have helped him fill out, have added a handful of needed pounds to his physique. He’s still thin, and he probably always will be, but he looks healthy now. Cared for, like someone’s looking out for him. 

Felix bites his lip and looks up at you, cocking his head a little before he sinks to his knees. The motion is fluid, practiced, but you force yourself not to think about _how_ he got that practice. It’s not difficult. Felix looks up at you, placing his hands on your thighs, and suddenly all your concentration is on him.

There’s something absolutely debauched about having Felix naked on his knees in front of you, while you’re still wearing the clothes you went out in. Whatever that something is, it’s terribly arousing, and it’s terribly arousing for the both of you. You’re straining against the zipper of your pants, cock aching to be released from its tight cotton confines, and Felix is hard too. Rising from a neatly trimmed patch of dark curls, Felix’s cock is dark red and leaking, precome beading at the tip before spilling down over the head. You want to reach down and jerk him off, but the kid went to his knees for a reason.

“What do you want?” you ask. “Use your words, baby boy.”

“Law,” Felix mutters. “You really gonna make me ask for it?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Felix blushes, but he doesn’t look upset. Instead, he leans in closer, resting his cheek against your thigh and looking up at you, brown eyes dark and maybe a little nervous, but determined and fearless all the same.

“Daddy, can I suck you off?”

Heat spikes in your groin, sudden and sharp. Something must show on your face, because Felix grins impishly and turns his head to nose at your hip, although that’s as far as he goes. He’s waiting for your permission, and that thought sends another hot spike of pleasure through you. Of its own accord, your hand comes up to rest on the back of Felix’s head, fingers slipping easily into his long brown locks.

“Go ahead,” you say, when you’re sure you’re not going to blow your load the second the younger man touches you, and Felix’s fingers fly to the front of your pants. He’s surprisingly quick, undoing your belt and fly with a coordination you didn’t expect before shoving the apparently offensive fabric out of the way.

The garments stay caught around your thighs, but that’s apparently enough for Felix. He takes your cock in hand, giving it a tentative, loose stroke, and then another, firmer one when all you do is sigh softly. Then he opens his mouth, but before he can wrap his lips around the head you tap his cheek lightly, drawing his gaze back up to you.

“Two taps on the leg if you need to stop,” you say. “Got it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Felix says impatiently, and when you wave the hand that’s not curled in his hair, he settles back at the task at hand. 

With enthusiasm.

The first time Felix drags his tongue up the underside of your cock, it pulls a curse from your mouth and makes your fingers tighten in his hair. And that, in turn, makes the younger man moan, and though the sound is muffled the sensation isn’t. You barely resist the urge to fuck forward into the tight heat of Felix’s mouth, to chase the friction you’re craving. _There’s no rush_ , you tell yourself. _We’ve got all night._

If the picture before was pretty, it’s nothing compared to what Felix looks like now. His lips are red and wet where they’re wrapped around your dick, and his cheeks are hollowed slightly as he sucks. You can’t see his cock, but you know he’s not touching himself, trying to get himself off while he blows you, because one hand is wrapped around the base of your dick and the other is pressed against your thigh as a brace.

“Good boy,” you murmur, unbidden. “Law, look at you. I didn’t even have to tell you to keep your hands off yourself.”

Felix hums and looks up, his eyes wide and eager for approval. He drinks it up like he’s starving for it, like no one’s ever praised him before, and for all you know no one has. That thought has you brushing your thumb over Felix’s cheek as he sucks you - it’s a little gesture, but it’s more intimate than a hand in his hair. And from the way Felix’s eyelashes flutter, you guess that he likes it enough.

You rock your hips forward gently, letting out a moan at the soft, sweet friction of Felix’s mouth. “Can I…?” you begin, and Felix leans back with a slick sound, reaching up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Fuck, yeah,” the younger man says. “Anything you want, boss.” He grins, blushing slightly. “Anything you want, daddy.”

“Anything, huh?” you say. “That’s a lot of leeway, baby boy.”

Felix actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. “That’s the point,” he says. “Look. Don’t tie me up, don’t come on my face, and don’t call me anything mean, and we’ll be good.”

You feel something change in your expression, and Felix obviously sees it, because he smiles softly, shaking his head. “I’ll tap out if I need to,” he says, drumming his fingers on your thigh. “I promise.”

You brush your thumb over his cheek, gentle and sweet, in stark contrast to the words you say next.

“I wanna fuck your mouth,” you say, and Felix makes a sound that’s all choked-off arousal.

“Yeah,” he gasps. “Yeah, fuck. Please.”

It’s the _please_ that twists in your gut, makes your dick twitch as you press it up against Felix’s lips. He opens for you easily, and then you’re back in that hot, plush mouth, and Felix has given you the reigns but he’s apparently not content to sit there passively. He swirls his tongue around the head, hollowing his cheeks again, and then he looks up at you, all wide brown eyes and lips stretched wide, and _fuck._

You start slow, and you’re sure Felix would urge you on if he had the capacity to speak, but as it is he’s limited to trying to bob his head faster and pull your hips forward. You don’t let him change your pace, and eventually he settles, though his eyes never leave your face. You try a deeper thrust, nudging at the back of his throat, and almost immediately tears well up in the kid’s eyes. He doesn’t tap out, though. He _moans,_ and the next time his eyelashes flutter a few tears spill out and down his face. 

You think about fucking his throat, about coming while his nose is pressed up against your stomach, but you don’t want to be too rough. Instead, you wrap your fingers around the base of your cock as you thrust back into his mouth, stopping when your hand touches his lips. It’s plenty fucking good. It’s more than good, really - it’s the first time since coming off the ice, and you can’t imagine anything better than Felix’s slick mouth, wrapped around you.

The younger man shifts, carefully, and you don’t know why until you feel the length of his body pressed up against your leg, feel the sinuous roll of his body as he rubs against you. Given the lack of blood in your brain, you think you can be forgiven for how long it takes you to realize that Felix is rubbing _off_ against you, rutting against the fabric on your shin while you fuck his mouth. And you know that shouldn’t be hot, but Law, it curls in your gut anyway, and then Felix hollows his cheeks and sucks and you’re gone.

You come with a grunt, without enough air in your lungs for even a single soft word. It’s not the first time you’ve gotten off since waking up but Law, it’s definitely the best. Felix sucks you through your orgasm, his tongue massaging the sensitive underside of your cock while his hips make small, aborted thrusts against your leg, and it takes you a long, long moment, but you finally have the mental acuity to pull back, stepping away from where Felix is grinding against you in the process.

The kid makes a noise, desperate and needy, and you’re on your knees in front of him before you can think about it. “Easy,” you murmur, and then pull him forward into a kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth like it’s yours. You can taste yourself, bitter and thick, and it’s not exactly pleasant but it’s worth the way Felix gasps against your mouth, the way his hands fly to your shoulders to cling to you.

“I’ve got you, baby,” you murmur, pulling back just enough to speak. You kiss him again, almost chaste this time, before raising your hand and licking a wet, hot stripe up the middle of it. Feli just stares at you, eyes wide, and when you wrap your hand around his flushed cock he whines, thrusting forward into your grip immediately. 

“Law,” he gasps, his voice rough and hoarse. “I’m not… shit, boss. I’m close, I’m so close, I can’t…”

You shush him gently, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of his neck. “It’s okay,” you murmur. “I’ve got you. Come for daddy.”

Felix’s breath catches in his throat, and his hips jerk one, two, three times, and then he’s spilling over your fist. He all but collapses into you, arms going around your waist, face hiding in your neck, and his whole body shudders as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. Gently, you release his spent dick, wiping your hand on the hem of your own shirt before wrapping Felix up in your arms, holding him close.

After a moment, you press a kiss to his hair, slowly rubbing a palm up and down his back. “With me?” you murmur, and Felix just hums, the sound muffled by your own skin. You chuckle. “Okay. If you think you can get up, the bed’s right there. It looks pretty comfortable.”

Felix hums again, but he leans back after a moment, obviously reluctant to leave the warmth of your embrace. Now that you can see his face, you reach up, wiping away the last remnants of tears. “Hey,” you say gently. “Didn’t mean to make you cry, baby boy.”

Felix reaches up, covering your hand with his. “Don’t apologize,” he says, meeting your gaze. “That was fucking amazing, and yes, I cried, but that doesn’t make it any less amazing. It just means I have a gag reflex, boss.”

You laugh at that, open and honest, and Felix quirks a smile in your direction. “Bed?” he asks. “Or are you gonna keep talking and ruin my afterglow?”

You shake your head as you get to your feet, extending a hand to help Felix up as well. He’s a little shaky, his footing a little unsure, and that’s your excuse for sliding an arm around his waist as you both walk over to the bed. It also lets you splay a hand over his hip, something that you’re sure you’ll never tired of doing, because your hand feels right there. It feels like it belongs.

Felix all but collapses on the bed. You take a moment to strip down, kicking your clothes off into the corner before joining him, immediately tangling your legs under the blanket and drawing the younger man in close. Felis sighs happily against your chest, and you kiss the ragged mop of hair on his head.

You don’t know what’s going to become of the world, now that the Board is gone. But for once, you’re not worried about the world. The only thoughts in your mind are of the young man laying next to you: the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin against your own, the way his fingers curl almost possessively over your bicep.

You don’t know what the future holds for the rest of the world, but you don’t really care. Your world is lying in your arms, breaths shallow with sleep, and that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, they got a big bed and didn't even fuck in it. What can I say? The boys wanted to have sex on the floor, and I wasn't gonna stop them.
> 
> Guess who's fallen in love with the Witcher? This bitch. My Netflix trial ran out though so I've only seen like two episodes but it's not like I was gonna let canon stop any of my perverted fic-writing in the first place, so. Expect some Geralt/Jaskier filth from me soon. Also, Season 4 of Preacher dropped and uh, I have feelings about it. The biggest feeling is "goddamn boys are stupid" so, yeah. Good shit.


End file.
